Learning to Fly
by asdfjpoetic
Summary: Oh what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to decieve...HG-DM
1. Ain't Got No Wings

**Disclaimer:** To many of you there at home who have nothing better do with your time then read my fan fictions it may come as a surprise that I do not actually own Harry Potter. Apparently some British women JK something does. Yes, yes sob and boo hoo but it is a sad fact I must face every day and I have come to the realization that crying won't make it better. SO in the mean time I am saving up my money so I can buy the rights to Draco Malfoy of JK Rowling, so I can legally keep him locked in my closet, so until then I suppose I'm violating several federal laws by having him chained to a wall…but…oh well, no jury would convict me…he's just so cute! ::pinches Draco's cheek::

**Setting: **This story starts during Hermione's fifth year at Hogwarts and Fred and Georges seventh year. Only several events that happen in the fifth book actually happen in this story. Enjoy.

**PROLOGUE **

Well it started out  
Down a dirty road.  
Started out  
All alone.  
  
And the sun went down  
As I crossed the hill.  
And the town lit up,  
And the world got still.  
  
I'm learnin' to fly,  
But I ain't got wings.  
Comin' down  
Is the hardest thing.  
  
Well the good ol' days  
May not return.  
And the rocks might melt,  
And the sea may burn.  
  
I'm learnin' to fly,  
But I ain't got wings.  
Comin' down  
Is the hardest thing.  
  
Well some say life  
Will beat you down,  
And break your heart,  
Steal your crown.  
  
So it started out  
For God-knows-where.  
I guess I'll know  
When I get there.  
  
I'm learning to fly  
Around the clouds.  
What goes up  
Must come down.  
  
I'm learnin to fly  
But I ain't got wings.  
Comin' down  
Is the hardest thing.  
  
I'm learnin' to fly  
Around the clouds.  
But what goes up  
Must come down.  
  
I'm learnin' to fly.  
I'm learnin' to fly.

--**Tom Petty**

The girl sat in the stiff back chair, her hands clenched tightly in her lap the knuckles white where they gripped her skirt, wrinkling the hideous plaid of the garment. The girl stared straight ahead looking at, but not seeing, the man behind the desk. Her face gone suddenly pale, was dominated by blank golden eyes. Eyes set underneath gracefully arching brows and atop a small nose dusted with freckles a few shades darker then her rosy skin. Skin gone pale and icy with shock

_'How can that be!?' _ The girl thought _'Can this really be true?'_

She blinked, snapping out of her reverie, she became suddenly aware of what she was doing to her skirt and quickly unclenched her hands, smoothing the wrinkles out of the molested blue cloth "Wha-" The girl's voice broke and she tried again "What do you mean?" She whispered

The man behind the desk leaned back in the leather chair and folded his large hands over the not so inconsiderable girth of his stomach.

The man n thleaned forward placing both his hands on the desk, the diamond on his thick pinkie winking, and met the girl's golden brown eyes with his own pale watery blue ones. His whispered voice carried the tone of secrecy "You Hermione Granger are a pure blood, not the mudblood you have been disguised as for the last 15 years"

Hermione blinked again, her long thick lashes touching her freckled cheeks and then up again to frame her confused eyes.

"I don't understand. It's not possible that I…that I am a pure blood. The very idea of it is absurd. Both my parents are dentists. Hard working muggles." Hermione's voice started out as a whisper but rose steadily and by the last word she was almost shouting

The man looked around panicked. What if someone had heard?

"Sh!!!" he hissed "If someone hears you it could be the end for both of us"

Hermione's eyes narrowed "And why would that be?"

The man gulped; sweat pearling along his ruddy skin. He had to follow his orders at all costs…if he messed up, his master would be most unpleased.

_The man spoke from his seat behind the large desk, placed at the end of an immense room, his back facing towards the man kneeling on the plush red carpet._

_"Do you understand the orders?" The voice was little more then a hiss_

_"Y-y-yes milord" The man stuttered fear choking him, making his tongue thick and clumsy_

_What this man was telling him to do went against everything he had been taught since the cradle. He would betray his master Voldemort, but while Voldemort was a faceless threat, the man in front of him was very real…and very dangerous. The man spoke again, his silvery hair glinting in the summer sunlight that streamed in through the large picture window that offered a breath taking view of the rolling English country side._

_"You will find the girl and tell her only of her parentage. You will not tell her what her parentage means, means to the entire Wizarding world. Am I clear?"_

_The man nodded his head, to scared to speak_

_The man behind the desk turned and met the eyes of the kneeling man. His gray eyes hard, cold, and calculating. This time when the man spoke it was in a soft croon, and it scared the kneeling man more then the hiss, chilled his bones and made his stomach shudder._

_"And if you fail Mr. Gils, let's just say…you'll regret it"_

_Mr. Gils gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing_

_"Yes Mr. Malfoy"_

_Lucius smiled his smile as icy and cold as his heart. Like the eyes of snake before they strike._

Mr. Gils felt a chill sweep through him at the thought or those frozen grey eyes, emotionless, cruel. Opening his own pale eyes he studied the girl across from him. She had no idea of the power she held, held in that tiny frame. Just thinking about what Lucius Malfoy had told him in that grand study in that huge, dark, intimidating house made him fear this girl.

This Hermione, with her long, curling, reddish brown hair and large golden eyes she hardly looked like the key to the destruction of his master. Mr. Gils shook his head and met Hermione's narrowed eyes. He'd do exactly what Lucius Malfoy had told him to…and pray it wouldn't get him killed

"Why can't anybody else know?" Mr. Gils twisted the diamond ring on his pinkie, a nervous habit he was unaware of doing

"There was a reason you went into hiding, and part of that is your biological parents"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat

If what this man was saying was true…she had parents…parent's that would understand her, not like the people who had raised her. Not like **them**, she would have people who loved her, who understood her world, people who understood her. She leaned forward clenching her skirt again, a nervous habit that would have made Harry frown, his green eyes showing his disapproval. She immediately slackened her grip at the thought of Harry. She had to be what he needed. He needed composure. She straightened up, and fixed Mr. Gil's with a piercing stare.

"Mr. Gils who **are** my parents?" Her eyes searched Mr. Gils' face as if hoping for some sign, some hint

Mr. Gils' eyes shifted nervously around the room while he spoke "Your parents are Mr. and Mrs. Bennet"

Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"Do you mean Adrianna and David Bennett the famous aurors?" Hermione's eyes widened and she leaned forward; forgetting her resolve to be what Harry wanted her to be "the ones that were instrumental in capturing hundreds of Voldemort's followers" Mr. Gils cringed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, a constant reminder of his betrayal "before…well before Harry finally stopped him the first time?"

"Yes, those Bennett's." Mr. Gils said

Hermione's eyes lit up, but then the spark died

"But Mr. Gils…In the books that I read…well…the Bennett's died."

Mr. Gils shifted around uncomfortably in his seat

"Yes they did"

Hermione looked stricken "Voldemort killed them"

Hermione felt her chest constrict and tears begin to well up in her eyes and she squeezed her lids tightly shut. How it hurt to almost be able to escape from that wretched empty house. Only to have her freedom yanked back, like a dog tied to a pole trying vainly to escape the yard, only to have the chain pull it short inches away from freedom.

Hermione reopened her eyes. Staring coldly at Mr. Gils she said "I fail to understand your reasons for telling me this. If they are dead they are dead it shouldn't matter. And telling me this now is just cruel!"

Mr. Gils pulled at the knot of his tie "It only recently came to the Ministry of Magic's attention that you were still alive. We had thought you dead along with you parents, and it was my duty to contact you to inform you of your parentage and of your new guardians."

Hermione stared blankly at Mr. Gils

"Guardian? I have a guardian?" Hermione said blinking rapidly, guardians were things out of a gothic novel, people didn't have guardians in real life.

"Yes indeed my dear. Your mother's sister's family to be exact. She married quite well. Another pure bred family."

Hermione looked puzzled. "You don't mean the Weasleys do you?" she asked hopefully

"No. No. Erm…here let me find the name" Mr. Gils flipped through the papers on his desk as if trying to find the name of her guardian. A name he knew very well. Even thinking about it made him quiver in fear.

"A pure blood family you say?" asked Hermione as sense of foreboding creeping up on her

Mr. Gils looked up distractedly "Yes"

"And it's not the Weasleys?" Asked Hermione dread creeping into her voice

"Yes m'dear I'm quite certain of that. Not the Weasleys"

Hermione bit her lip and crossed her fingers in her lap "It isn't the well…Malfoy family is it sir?"

Mr. Gils looked up, a grin lighting his face. "Yes" he said excitedly "that's the family"

Hermione felt the tiredness she had been trying so hard to work past for the last several weeks rise up, and her mind began to spin, whirling, thoughts and sounds and colors blending, a high pitch cackle, screaming, pleading

_'Please take my baby, take her!_' the woman's anguished pleas were followed by the sounds of laughter, happy, joyous, low murmurs. Hermione's sight began to blur and then everything seemed to fade into black.

Mr. Gils watched in shock as Hermione toppled off her chair in a dead faint.

OA: Hey it's me! I'm alive! I realize I haven't done any work since the eighth but with school starting up I've been so busy!

Hermione: busy procrastinating you mean

OA: Oh no are we doing this again? ::cowers::

Hermione: Don't worry I'm not going to hit you

OA: Really? ::straightens::

Hermione: No ::hits author with metal pipe::

OA: damn…I should have seen that one coming

Please review, I'm desperate for feed back, also email me or tell me in your review if you would be interested in beta-ing

For readers of Tears of an Innocent: Very excited that you've decided to check out my new story. I'm doing some heavy revision and the new and improved story will be posted sometime next month. There will be new scenes, and all those annoying little typos will be gone.

Until next time

Kiss kiss

Annie


	2. Suspicion In It's Place

Disclaimer: Hi yes. My name is Annie, and I own Harry Potter. ::cowers waiting for divine smiting:: have I been tackled? Sued? Locked up? Struck by lightning? No? ::straightens up looking around warily:: Oh hey would you look at that? I guess I really do own- ::OA is struck by lightning:: ow…::three large lawyers step into view. The first two drag OA away and the second begins to read from an official looking document:: JK Rowling owns all characters that you recognize as well as all the spells and Annie's immortal soul.

BIG QUESTION: This seems familiar? Have you copied this/written it before and taken it down? No I have not copied it from anywhere. I have a story called "From the Ground Up" which is this story's prologue. This is the same story but I have changed the name and resumed posting. RESPONSES ARE AT THE BOTTOM. Much love to my betas Geekofyerdreams and DarkAngelB. The-Sexy-Flower thanks for INTENDING to beta ::huggles:: my fault, I didn't give you enough notice.

**Chapter One**

**Suspicion In Its Place**

The pain has stripped away all rationale  
And left suspicion in its place  
I wish I could cling to this with different arms  
And never know the feeling of loss or emptiness

--"**Stop Me" Anacrusis**

Hermione surfaced slowly, struggling to fight off the fog that seemed to blanket her mind. Brief snatches of conversations wafted across her, whether they were memories or actual ones, she didn't know. Not then.

_'Can't you just be normal…?' _

_'Going to the library again…?'_

_'Severe case of exhaustion…malnourishment…bed rest for the next several days' _she drifted off again then. Slipped back into the blessed release of unconsciousness. She did not know how long she stayed there, in the dark place, but it seemed as if mere moments had passed when she heard the screams.

_'My baby!__ Please take her! He…he can't have her! I won't let him! Please…please help me? Help me…' _the frenzied cries trailed off into sorrowful sobbing, and she longed to call out to the woman, the woman whose voice held such pain, such fear. She longed to tell this woman that yes, yes she would help her, and then, quite suddenly, she was aware that this was a dream. That she was dreaming. That this woman was not real, and that she could not help her. The sobbing seemed to fade at the thought, and Hermione's heart ached, it sounded so real. But it wasn't. __She tried valiantly to open her eyes, but her lids felt heavy, weighed down, and they simply fluttered weakly against her cheeks, like a bird's wings against the bars of its cage. She shivered weakly as she became aware of the cold in the hospital room. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself and rolled over, preparing to drift off again.

"-nger! Granger!" The annoyed voice wove in and out of her hearing as she began the slippery slide back into the suffocating darkness. And then, abruptly, she was no longer in danger of slipping back in, for it was as if the voice has grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from that drowsy in between place, and into the conscious world.

"Oh no you don't Granger" the voice drawled "the nurse said to keep you awake if you did come to" it paused for a moment and then continued, the sneer the speaker's facial features must have been twisted into was evident in the voice "although I can't see why personally, you're so much more pleasant when you are incapable of speech."

Only one person Hermione knew could speak in such a condescending tone. She opened one eye and peered blurrily out from her huddle of blankets, groaning she closed the eye and rolled over so her back was to the speaker.

"Now, now Granger is that anyway to treat your new older brother?" the voice sneered, a hint of anger leaking into his tone.

"Oh go bugger yourself Malfoy!" Hermione snarled, her response muffled by pillows still reached Draco's ears, tinting his skin a pale pink and making his grey eyes flash with anger.

XOXOXOXOXO

Unballing his fists he gave a small smile. She never failed to get a rise out of him, when he himself never seemed to get one out of her…oh a hot flash of anger, sure, but anything deep, anything tangible…never…except for that unfortunate incident in third year…but he preferred not to speak of it.

"Such a mouth on you! Mother will have a fit! No Malfoy woman swears in public!" he said, knowing this would infuriate her, while at the same time shuddering at the thought of giving the name, and the curse that went along with it, to anyone, even a mudblood…former mudblood, Draco corrected himself.

Hermione sat up with an enraged shriek, throwing the covers off, her striking auburn eyes flashing in anger, took in the unexpected sight of Draco Malfoy in muggle clothing. A long sleeved black collared shirt accentuated shoulders that had broadened in the last year, and the dramatic black a striking contrast against his pale skin and white hair, and a pair of jeans covered his long legs that stretched before him, crossed nonchalantly at the ankles. Hermione shook of the shock at seeing Draco lowering himself to muggle clothing, the most expensive of muggle clothing, but still muggle clothing. Regaining her composure she snarled at him.

"I. Am. Not. A. Malfoy!" Hermione bit each word out, her teeth grinding together. Draco smirked.

"Well not YET, mother and father won't let you use our surname until they polish you up a bit." He forced a grin "I mean can you imagine? You walking around with your bushy hair and crude muggle mannerisms? We'd never live it down!"

Hermione growled, her jaw working furiously but, to his surprise, instead of swearing at him again, or cursing him into oblivion, she shivered and then simply grabbed the blankets from where they rested about her waist, wrapped them around her shoulders, turned around and thumped back onto the mattress. Refusing to respond to anymore of his taunts.

Draco tore his eyes away from the lump of blankets, the few stray strands of golden brown hair peeking out from beneath the white coverlet the only clue that the pile really was a person and not just a mound of pillows and blankets. His eyes traveled slowly around the generic, white hospital room of Saint Mungo's, a privet room of course, and then to the clip board that hung at the end of the bed. His grey eyes scanned the official looking document, his pale eyes widening almost imperceptibly.

"Malnourishment? Exhaustion?" he asked, disbelief coloring his voice "What the hell is this all about Granger?"

His words penetrated the haze that surrounded Hermione's mind. She sat back up, blinking.

"Why do you keep calling me Granger?" she queried, evading his question. Draco blinked, startled at her artless evasion. But then again what had he expected? She was a Gryffindor after all.

"Ah yes, I suppose that is very remiss of me, calling you Granger. It would be Bennett now wouldn't it?" he asked sarcastically "Of course until it becomes Malfoy. But you know what they say, old habits die hard." He smirked "Now answer the question."

Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth as she tried to find a reason. Draco stared, fascinated, as the small white teeth nibbled on her lower lip. He wondered how those teeth would feel on him, nibbling and nipping their way up his-Draco cut himself off, ashamed at the direction his thoughts were going, imagine thinking about a filthy mudblood like _that_.

'Ah yes but she isn't a mudblood anymore is she Draco, old chap?' a voice whispered somewhere in the back of his mind

"Come on, the truth, not some silly excuse." He said, his tone harsher than he had intended.

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it again. He could see her trying to find a way out of this. He watched absently as she rubbed her arms as if she were cold.

"Out with it" he sneered, Hermione harrumphed, offended by his tone.

"Fine. If you simply _must_ know, it's because I've been much too busy, and I just…kind of…forgot" She finished lamely, her answer accompanied by a firm nod.

Draco ran his long fingered hand through his white-blond hair in exasperation.

"Busy doing _what?_" he asked, aggravated

Hermione's lips twitched, as if she were suppressing a smile, which she was. She knew what his reaction would be to her response

"Why, studying of course." She said in a dry voice.

Draco just stared at her for moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Finally he managed to force a coherent sentence from his throat

"Why are you studying? It's the middle of the summer Granger." He said his eyes wide with disbelief.

Hermione smirked "Exactly" she replied "and when we start school again it'll be our _fifth _year. Our OWL's year…how could I NOT study" it was Hermione said in a falsely exasperated tone, she so enjoyed that blank look on Draco's face when whatever she said stumped him…it made him look as dumb as she knew he was.

Draco shook his head and returned his piercing grey eyes to the clip board, scanning over numerous figures and official looking dialogue, as he approached the bottom he noticed a hand written note in the margin of the page.

"What-"he began to ask, but then as he read the note he cut himself off, looking up at Hermione, his eyes narrowed in consideration. Perhaps she wasn't as Gryffindor as he thought, if what the note said was true, than she was a very good liar, perhaps as good as his father, perhaps as good as him. Maybe all of them were lying with the same proficiency, and all at the same time. Draco repressed a snort of derision. Wouldn't that be ironic? The deceived deceiving the deceivers. He looked at the note once more, just to make sure he had read it correctly. He hoped the doctor was wrong…but if he wasn't, well, he would be keeping an eye on her anyways.

Hermione was staring at him again, a puzzled expression on her beautiful face. Good, he thought, let her wonder. The less she knew about him and his father's plans the better. Just thinking about what Lucius wanted to do made him sick. His father's plans always made him sick. His thoughts had begun to travel down a darker path when there came a sharp rap on the door and a plump nurse who reminded Hermione greatly of Mrs. Weasley came bustling in. She had a wide, flushed face that emanated warmth and caring. Hermione instantly relaxed. Draco was instantly on guard. The woman walked over to the window, her sensible flats making no sound on the linoleum floors. "'Tis dark as a cave in 'ere" she said with a slight lilt in her bright voice, it made Draco want to cover his ears, as she reached the window and drew the curtains back, letting in rays of sunshine.

It wasn't real sunshine of course, being as they were several stories underground; however it had the same affect on Draco and Hermione as the real thing. Hermione's face seemed to glow, instantly seeming healthier, and more energetic as the rays hit her. Draco edged away from the intruding beams and frowned as they fell on him despite his attempts to avoid them.

The nurse, Mary, turned around and studied the two teens in the room. She frowned at them, for they truly were a study in opposites. The slim girl in the bed a child of the light, warm healthy skin, sparkling brown eyes, and long, curly blonde-brown hair, she seemed to glow in the soft sunlight, Mary sensed the warmth that seemed to radiate from her, the innate kindness, surely the girl had many friends, and was never lacking companionship, but then on closer inspection Mary noticed several things that the unforgiving sunlight had illuminated, the pallor of sickness on the girl's face. The frame Mary had originally mistaken for slim she saw now was thin to the point of emaciation; Mary would have been surprised if she had weighed any more than six stones. The haunting quality of the shadows under her eyes, and the hollows of her cheeks. A story, a mystery, a lie, a reason, a reason she was laying in the hospital bed with her wrists so thin they looked hollow. A reason for the shadows of old bruises, and the hunted look, the fear in her eyes. The small young woman was an enigma. She had a youthful body, but a weary soul.

In contrast the boy sitting in the chair was a child of the night, his eyes grey like the clouds in the midnight sky, his skin pale and seemingly cold, his hair glimmered with the same white as the stars, Mary knew that he would be quick with his lies, and light on his feet. Out of necessity, Mary decided looking at him. For he had the same hunted look at the girl, however he didn't seem at all lost. He sat in the chair confidently, his posture screamed 'lackadaisical arrogance', and he held himself with a predatory grace, he was like a sleek leopard a breath away from movement, it seemed as if he knew exactly what he was doing. His eyes though, his eyes were defiant, angry, they were eyes that had witnessed atrocities no human should ever be forced to see and behind the icy grey Mary caught a glimpse of an ancient soul, a weary soul. Mary didn't understand why these two teens, little more than children, had such tired faces, ancient souls, and knowing eyes, and so she pushed it to the back of her mind and did what she did best.

Mary moved to Hermione's bedside, fussing with the rumpled blanket, smoothing the coverlet and fluffing her pillows. Pulling her wand from a pocket on her white nurses uniform she _accio-ed _the clipboard from the end of the bed into her hand, and with a precise wand movement in Hermione's direction, numbers began to appear at a rapid pace on the blank page held by the clip. Mary tut tutted. "I was right! You don' way any more than six stones and yer blood sugar is still awfully low, which is never a good thing. I'll be right back with summa potion fer that" Then without another word the comforting presence of the nurse was gone and Hermione and Draco were once again alone.

Hermione leaned back resting her head on the pillow; closing her eyes she enjoyed the warmth of the sunlight on her face. The warmth was comforting, especially in this room that seemed so cold, and as if triggered by her thoughts another shiver ran through her body. Why was she so cold? She huddled under the blankets, awaiting the return of the nurse, stubbornly ignoring the pale young man who was sitting in the far corner of the room staring at the wall above her head. The silence stretched on. Draco lost in thought and Hermione refusing to do anything to interrupt the quiet.

She turned over onto her side, her knees pressed tightly to her chest, the blankets rustled, seeming excruciatingly loud in the quite room. Her mind slowly drifted to the problem at hand. What was she to do? She had just been told that she was a pureblood, something Hermione doubted very strongly. If that was the case surely Dumbledore would know, and would have told her, and while she was on that subject, there was no possible way she could be related to the Malfoy's. Hermione ran through what she knew about the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy was as slippery as an eel and had more lives than any cat. The name Malfoy was gold, in the most literal sense, in the Ministry of Magic. Draco was a complete prat…and Narcissa she had seen only once. There was no possible way she could be related to that…dysfunction. It was too absurd to even contemplate. Obviously Lucius was lying. But why would he lie…?

Hermione's musings were cut short by the entrance of the nurse. Mary approached Hermione's bedside with purpose, the vial of a bubbling green viscous liquid held at arms length as if it were in danger of exploding. Setting it down on the cheap wooden bed side table she instructed "Drink it right quick 'afore it goes cold."

Hermione sat up and stared at the vial dubiously as large mucus colored bubble formed and then popped on the surface. Grimacing she reached out and took the vial, her vast experience with potions telling her that it was going to taste as vile as it looked. Giving the vile one more apprehensive look she tossed back the vial of thick liquid expertly. Draco pressed a fist to his mouth; it was all he could do to keep from falling off his chair laughing at the expression on Hermione's face. Hermione sent a nasty look at him as she smacked her lips and gagged, doing anything she could to try and get the taste from her mouth.

Mary watched, absurdly satisfied as Hermione began to rapidly wipe her tongue on the collar of her night gown. If anything would keep the girl from ending back up in the hospital it was that potion. In fact she had chosen it over the more pleasant tasting potion for just that reason. It provided all the necessary healing properties, and the taste would leave a lasting reminder as to why she should eat. Conjuring a glass of water, she handed it to Hermione with a false coo of sympathy "Oh you poor dear." She murmured, hiding a smile, as Hermione ripped the glass of water from her hand and drained it. Hermione glared at Draco as he fell from his chair, clutching his side and howling in laughter.

XOXOXOXOXO

Much, much, much later, when Draco regained control of his snickers he turned towards Mary, still smirking, and asked "When may Granger leave?" Hermione tensed up where she sat on her bed, her back pressed firmly to the white wall and her knees crossed Indian style beneath her, her shoulders and back going rigid. Her head whipped around from where it had been resting against the wall, to stare at the nurse, her golden brown hair settling over her shoulders. Mary looked up from the clipboard where she was making additional note in the margin, and frowned "Well…Miss Granger should have bed rest for the next few days, no strenuous activities." Hermione relaxed; surely she would be staying here. But then the nurse's next words make her freeze like a deer caught in head lights "Although I see no reason why she can't do it at home"

Hermione ran her tongue across her teeth, grimacing at the lingering taste of the potion; did she have a home anymore? The Grangers weren't her family anymore, thank Merlin, it was the middle of summer so she couldn't go to Hogwarts, Ron hadn't invited her and she would hate to impose, and Harry…well…Harry…Draco's voice brought that train of though to an abrupt halt.

"Get up Granger, we're going home." Hermione stared at him blankly for a moment, but regained control quickly "Home?" she queried.

Draco shook his head quietly, despairing over her lack of perception. "You're living with us, Granger. In the Malfoy family manor. That's what being a guardian means, it means feeding and clothing, and giving a home to an ungrateful former mudblood."

The nurse gave him a sharp look, and with an insulted sniff, turned on her heel and stomped from the room, slamming the door behind her. Hermione frowned after her, considering "I'm not going anywhere with you." She said flatly, looking determinedly at a point next to his right ear, and her arms crossed sullenly over her chest. Draco swallowed a growl of annoyance. "Granger, get up, get dressed. Now." He said softly, his eyes narrowed into icy slits.

Hermione frowned, her auburn eyes were slightly glazed, as if she were looking through him, and seeing only something she could, however her answer was clear and concise "Malfoy, I would rather eat glass." Draco's pale cheeks flushed a pale pink, and he scowled at her.

"Granger, you can walk out of here, or your unconscious form can be levitated out of here. I much prefer the later, but I'm giving you a choice."

Hermione's chin jutted out, and her eyes snapped to his face. "Malfoy you can kiss my arse."

Draco just gave a silky smile and fingered his wand.

XOXOXOXOXO

"Bloody bastard…sodding wanker...just you WAIT until I have a chance…ooh, I'll make you wish you were never born…" Hermione mumbled under her breath as she trudged sullenly after Draco, dragging her feet and scuffing the sidewalk with her sensible, flat, shoes, not fifteen minuets after the confrontation in the hospital room. It hadn't gone well at all, Hermione frowned, remembering. She hadn't _actually_ expected him to use the full body bind, _or_ mobilius corpus…the bloody arse rag!

Draco turned around to stare at the slim girl who was walking a good ten feet behind him, her steps sluggish, as if she had to force herself to take every step...she looked to be on the verge of turning around and running

"If you walk any slower, we won't make it to the portkey until well after dark." He called to her.

"Good, then maybe the muggers will get you." She mumbled, as she drew up alongside him

"What was that?" he sneered.

Hermione glanced up at him, giving him a dazzling smile that made Draco's breath catch in his throat

"I said" she stated slowly "I hope the muggers get you." She than broke into a stirring rendition of 'God Save the Queen' and skipped off in front of him.

Draco winced as her merry, although horribly off key humming rang through the crowded streets of muggle London. She knew nothing of decorum…just like a filthy mudblood. She stopped skipping and slowed to walk almost immediately, he could see her chest heaving, just from expending even that tiny amount of energy. Draco studied her tiny frame as she weaved expertly between groups of muggles, and with quick, long strides that ate up ground; he was next to her in seconds.

"It's through there."

He said indicating a dark, narrow side alley that Hermione had almost walked past, wrapping his large hand, callused from years of Quiddittch, around her thin upper arm he steered her firmly into the alley. Releasing her arm, he motioned for her to follow as he stepped over a cracked vial, and skirted a condom with as much arrogance and effortless grace he must have when waltzing across the floor of a ballroom. Hurrying to keep up with his much longer strides she followed him deeper into the dank alley. Stepping daintily around a puddle of something that looked suspiciously like vomit she sneered

"Your family sure has class, Malfoy"

Draco ignored her and slowed his steps as they approached the brick wall, covered with graffiti, at the end of the alley. Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder he pulled his wand from the back pocket of his designer label jeans. Muttering to himself he began counting bricks, three bricks up and two to the right, Hermione counted silently along with him as he found the brick he was looking for. Tapping it with his wand, it popped out, reaching out a pale hand he grasped the loose brick firmly and pulled it out, leaving a gaping hole where the brick had been, holding the brick in one hand he reached his other hand into the gap blindly for something first just with his hand and then he reached further back into the hole and his entire arm disappeared. He bit his tongue as his hand groped blindly for whatever it was looking for.

"Ah" he said "here it is!" and with that his arm reemerged, much to Hermione's disappointment, for she had been desperately hoping something behind the wall would bite it off, and while he was screaming and rolling around on the dirty alley floor bleeding she could make a break for it. In his hand he held a signet ring, the Malfoy crest. An Emerald the size of Hermione's pinky nail was surrounded by a silver snake that wrapped around the jewel, its head placed in the center, its body forming the actual ring. Grabbing Hermione's hand he shoved it roughly onto the ring finger of her right hand, placing a single finger on the ring, he brought his wand up and set it on the ring, activating the portkey.

Hermione closed her eyes against the unnerving sensation of a hook just behind her navel being tugged inextricably forward, she had the most uncomfortable feeling of her feet leaving the ground and the world whirling around her, and then just as suddenly as it had started, it was over and her feet were once again on firm ground. She could have fallen to her knees and kissed it. Hermione frowned; she really could fall to her knees. Draco began to move away from her, taking away the only support she had. Wrapping her arms around her stomach she doubled over. Taking a portkey had never made her feel this nauseous, not even her first time. Her head pounded fiercely and her stomach churned viciously. She was dimly aware of the fact that Draco had stopped his approach to the manor and now stood statuary several yards in front of her.

Groaning she straightened up and took several unsteady step towards where Draco stood, watching her awkward progress with amusement. Hermione glared at him. Weaving across the lawn towards him in what, if Draco hadn't known better he would have believed to be a drunken stupor. Sneering he reached out a hand to support her, but it was violently slapped away, and Hermione continued the lopsided march past him and, in what to her must have been a straight line, towards the manor that sat atop one of the rolling emerald green hills.

It was to bad Hermione's eyes couldn't focus on anything but the house that appeared to be moving, houses don't move, Hermione assured herself, because if she had been feeling even marginally better she would have stopped and gaped at the lovely country side. A vivid cerulean sky framed the impressive grey stone manor that sprawled across acres and was surrounded by bright green grass that seemed to stretch for miles in all directions. But for the moment Hermione was focused on the singular task of placing one foot in front of another, and ignoring the protests her stomach and head made. It was probably that damned potion. Draco followed several paces behind, sniggering quietly at her weaving progress. Granger was a laugh a minuet…Draco frowned, that wasn't right, Hermione was never funny…it must be the potion.

XOXOXOXO

Hermione leaned heavily against the door jam, gulping air into her furiously working lungs, and trying very hard to not think about the dull throbbing in her head, or the nausea that had not abated during her trek across what had seemed like miles of up hill slopes. Pressing her cheek against the cool grey stone of the wall she studied the immense double doors that would swing open into her new life. They were enormous, stretching up at least twenty five feet, and made of some beautiful, dark gleaming wood that probably cost more than three of the Granger's houses put together. There were detailed carvings all over the doors, ancient ruins, Hermione knew. The ones closest to Hermione's eyes were ones of power and protection.

"Ready Granger?" Draco queried insolently from behind her, and, not waiting for an answer he stepped past her and banged the ornate silver door knocker that was modeled as a snake, it's head formed the knocker and it's body twined up and around in a circle where it attached to the door. Draco's pale, callused hand wrapped confidently around the head, obscuring the small glimmering emeralds that were the heavily detailed knocker's eyes.

Hermione could only shake her head at such extravagancy. She knew the Malfoy's were rich, but to be so filthy rich you displayed it on something as trivial as a door knocker? That just seemed excessive. It was like blowing you nose on one hundred dollar bills. Even as Hermione mulled over this, the immense doors swung open without so much as a squeak.

Without hesitation Draco stepped into the cool, dimly light interior of the entryway. Hermione took a staggering step inside and could only stare in wonderment at the sight that awaited her. The house had seemed positively enormous from the outside, but inside it must have been as big as Hogwarts. Gaping she looked straight up past curving white railings and green marble floors, she could just barely make out the ceiling. Her eyes widening with each passing moment Hermione turned in a circle taking in the lavishly decorated entry hall. The floor was the finest of green marble with elegant silver inlay, the hall itself was bigger than three of her homes. The large rectangular room flowed seamlessly into another to her left, which appeared to be a ballroom. To her right the hall bled into yet another enormous room. Directly ahead of her was a behemoth stair case of silver and white marble that went directly up and then split into two separate staircases, one that veered towards the left, and the other towards the right.

Draco observed Hermione's awe with a snicker

"Probably never seen anything this nice, eh Granger? But what would a mudblood be doing in an ancestral home of a pureblood?" he sneered

Hermione sniffed. True it was her first time in pureblood's ancestral home, and it certainly lived up to expectations, it wasn't her first time in a pureblood's home, but this outshined the burrow by quite a bit.

"Fascinating" she murmured, staring down at the carvings in the floor, crouching down to get a better look she ran her finger over it considering "How long as this house been in your family?" she asked softly as the rune on the floor began to glow at her touch. Draco shrugged his shoulders

"Several millennia, I suppose" he replied nonchalantly, Hermione simply nodded, that had been her guess.

XOXOXOXOXO

Draco led Hermione up yet another flight of stairs, she trailed along behind him, her breathing shallow. Sparing a quick glance back at her small frame to make sure she hadn't fallen over dead, he reached the landing and waited for her to catch up, he didn't have to wait long before Hermione, holding onto the railing with a death grip, dragged herself up the final stair, huffing and puffing.

"Sadistic" Hermione gulped in air "bastards" and then another gasp "all of you." she finished weakly. Draco just smiled down at her flushed face, his gray eyes laughing "That's why the ladies love us." He smirked

Then without waiting for an answer, he placed his large hand in the small of her back and began to propel her along the hallway. Hermione went rigid at his touch and kept her eyes downcast as a flush, which had nothing to do with physical exertion, crept across her cheeks. She studied her plain black shoes, ugly some would say, but she thought them sensible and the polished grain of the wood floor beneath them intently. She didn't like being touched, but it would be rude turndown a gesture that was meant to be helpful, and was obviously second nature to him, he was probably hardly aware of doing it.

Draco grinned down at the top of Hermione's head lasciviously. Who would have thought that underneath all those demure, baggy clothes Granger had a nice ass? Well he knew now, being as his hand rested right above the soft swell, and he slowly began to inch it downward, but stopped himself right before he could do anything he would regret, Hermione was under the impression they were cousins, and not for the first time he damned his father's lies to hell.

All the pleasant thoughts of Granger's derrière were pushed firmly to one side, after all he didn't want her thinking he was some sort of incestuous prat…he wasn't a Weasley after all. Stopping in front of a large oak door, he removed his protesting hand and opened the door.

"Your room madam." He said in a false French accent and then gave her a light shove into the room, stepping in after her he waited for her reaction. For the second time that day Hermione was completely taken aback by the lavish appointment of the Malfoy home. With a soft gasp she took another step into the room, Draco following closely behind, a small smile pasted to his face. The room was done in varying hues of blue, from the color of the summer sky to the dark blue of the ocean at night, with gold accent pieces. An enormous four poster canopy bed was set in the middle of the huge room, lush blue velvet hangings with golden embroidery obscured most of it from view, but Hermione could just make out a pile of pillows in whites, gold's, and blues at the head of the bed. On the wall opposite the bed was an enormous golden fireplace, a pile of wood set in the grate. In the far corner next to a window that took up most of the east wall was a large cushy blue arm chair. Hermione could see herself curling up in it with a cup of tea and a good book. Her eyes were then drawn back to the window. It looked out over the rolling English countryside that Hermione had been to busy to notice before. Draco's voice made her tear her eyes from the breath taking view.

"The bathroom is through there." He said indicating a door near the arm chair "and the library is right through there" he said pointing towards a door to the right of the fireplace. Hermione's eyes immediately light up. "You can't go there yet though." Hermione turned around slowly to look at him "Father wants to speak with you."

XOXOXOXOXO

"You can floo anywhere in the house from the fireplace. To go to Lucius's office simply say 'Third floor office.' Got it?" Hermione nodded quickly, clenching and unclenching her hands where she stood in front of the fireplace. Reaching a shaking hand she grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the mantel pieced. Throwing it into the fire that Draco had just started, the flames leapt alarmingly, turning bright green. "Third floor office!" Hermione said calmly, and stepped into the emerald flames.

XOXOXOXO

Lucius sat behind the large oak desk, his long fingers steepled beneath his chin and his grey eyes watching the fireplace expectantly, as a cat would a mouse hole. His fall of platinum blonde hair was tossed nonchalantly over one shoulder, and his snake headed cane was propped against the arm of the green leather chair in which he sat. Lucius was a man used to opulence, he was a man who indulged freely in his wants, his needs, but he was not soft like many men who were born into similar settings, similar wealth. No, Lucius was a hard man, a skilled liar, a glib conversationalist, a charming man many would say. He was an adept curse caster, a proficient torturer, terrifying many would say. He possessed a sharp wit, and the patience of a saint, determined many would say. A predator is what Lucius thought himself to be. His body was honed to react to the smallest noise, trained in hand to hand combat, and his wand was always at the ready, he was perfectly misleading, his lies and his charm his stripes to hide him in the tall grass. He could wait for hours, days, years for the opportune moment to strike. He sat in his chair with an easy grace, with the confidence of a man used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. The flames in the fire flashed a tell tale green a moment before the small girl came hurtling from the grate onto the emerald carpeting of the floor.

A small predatory smile graced his lips as she stood, brushing the soot from her rumpled blouse and skirt. Standing up he cleared his throat. Hermione's head snapped up, her amber eyes icy with hate as she met his own mild gray ones. "Please take a seat…Hermione" her name rolled of his tongue slowly, as if he were savoring it, his voice as smooth as silk. Hermione shuddered in disgust. Lucius Malfoy, the man who had ruined Ginny's life, Lucius Malfoy the man who had attempted to kill Harry, Lucius Malfoy the man who had tried to execute Buckbeak, Lucius Malfoy the right hand man of Voldemort.

"I'd rather stand, Mr. Malfoy" she said quietly, her chin jutting out defiantly

Lucius simply smiled at her impudence, his gray eyes raking across her body in a manner which made Hermione feel as if he could see right through her clothes.

"Please, Hermione, there's no need to be so proper! Call me Lucius for now." Hermione crossed her arms sullenly "Very well" she said "I'd rather stand…Lucius." She sneered his name.

"Nonsense Hermione! Take a seat." He said, his gray eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly as he kept up his façade. One pale hand gestured towards the green armchair opposite him.

Hermione met his eyes for a moment, in a stand off of wills, but what she saw in those grey depths made her drop her gaze almost immediately, cold, she saw ice in his eyes. Hate. She suppressed a shudder. Crossing the room quickly she dropped into the seat across from Lucius, her eyes clenched as if she expected lightning to hit her. When she wasn't incinerated on the spot she opened one eye, and then the other, just in time to see Lucius take his seat. Leaning forward he once again steepled his fingers under his chin. With a small smile he began to speak "I understand what Mr. Gils's informed you must have been quite a shock, however I hope in time you will be able to accept you new life…" Hermione stopped listening and simply nodded at places she deemed appropriate as her mind began the process of organizing all the different information she had been given in the last day. As she did this she began to see more and more gaps in the story she had been fed, reaffirming her speculation that this was all a lie. Her suspicion grew with each passing second. Mr. Gils had given her no information on why she had been given to the Grangers after her parents had been killed. Nor in all her readings about the Bennett's had she found any mention of Adriana's relatives being the Malfoy's. In fact Hermione had been under the impression Adriana was a muggle born. Hermione frowned. Yes, something was definitely something afoot. Something that undoubtedly involved Voldemort.

XOXOXOX

The Forbidden Forest stood at the edge of Hogwarts land, it had been there as long as any Wizard could remember, it had been there as long as there had been recorded word, it had been there longer than Hogwarts itself, it had been there since the beginning. The tangled brush and twisting trees held the secrets of millennia's, it stood as the only witness to the dawn of man, the first war, the first love, the first birth, the first death. It had been there since the first. The forest was cloaked in legend, in mystery. It stood unchanged by the passing of centuries. The same gnarled trees, twisting roots, the same creatures. One of these many creatures stood deep in the center of the forest, far deeper than any human had ever been, at least while it was alive. Its man like head was tilted upwards staring at the stars that glimmered through the dark canopy of leaves. The sound of hoof beats alerted the stargazer to the approach of another of its kind.

"It has begun." The first whispered, its eyes glued to the heavens. The other looked upwards, a sharp indrawn breath the only indication he had seen what the first had.

"Her fate has been set into motion." It said mistily as a third joined their party

"See how brightly her star shines." It said quietly

"Her fate has been entwined with Harry Potter's since the beginning. We have seen it" The first said "but now her star outshines even his." It continued

"She walks a hard path, at the end lies only despair and death." The second said as two more of the creatures joined the group and tilted their head back to study the stars.

"But her death will save us all. There is no other way. Sacrifice is the only choice." A new one said.

The other centaurs agreed silently, pawing the earth with their hooves as they continued to try and interpret the stars and planets.

A/N: Whew. Finally done! I'm sorry it's taken me so long. My updates are going to be farther apart then they were with my last story because, as all my stalkers…er…LJ friends know, I've been very, very, VERY busy. For all you readers of TOAI you probably noticed the BIG change in my writing style. I hope you liked it!

Draco: FINALLY I show up

Hermione: I thought you didn't want to do this?

Draco: ::shrugs:: I don't, but I'm the only thing saving this story from complete ruin

OA: ::lip trembles:: I KNEW YOU CARED DRACO!!!!!!!! ::tacklehugs::

Draco: Geroff! Geroff! You insane woman! ::struggles out of OA's grasp:: All I'm saying is that I have nothing better to do. ::straightens robes:: and it gives me a good chance to practice my sneer ::sneers::

Hermione: ::shakes head in disgust:: you are such a vain prat

Draco: SO?

OA: awww…you guys are so CUTE together! That's why I write HG/DM, but Hermione's going to get some action from some other guys to ::winks lasciviously::

Hermione: …you disgust me. ::curses OA into oblivion::

OA: …that's what I get for trying to lighten the mood

Draco: stay dead you foul woman!

OA: …only if they review.

Draco/Hermione: please, please, PLEASE REVIEW

OA: Please notify me of any errors made, any constructive criticism is much appreciated. Tell me what you liked, tell me what you didn't like. Share your ideas. Your disgust with the over used plot line. (But trust me. Twists are on there way)

RESPONSES:

**the-sexy-flower**: Hello my love, sorry I posted before you got a chance to read through it, I was in kind of a rush.

**Geekofyerdream**s: Hello love, I can't wait to read your new story! Thank you for betaing, you're a doll!

**Hazel Tree**: ::gasp:: COMPLIMENTS! CONSTRUCTIVE comments. You're my new love.

**Haystack8190**: Ah yes…the plot…let me assure you while it may seem overused…I have some twist in store for you.

**Donniedarkobunnyove**r: I'm glad you think so. Love your name.

**Paprika90**: Thank You

**Bea**: If Hermione's mother were REALLY related to Narcissa then yes, they would be related.

**Oni Tenchie**: I posted this story under a different name before, but then started it over here.

**DarkAngelB**: I love you Sally! I hope you enjoy it

**Dancing in rain**: I'm glad you enjoyed my last story, I hope you enjoy this one as well.


	3. Where Love is Lacking

**Disclaimer**: Don't believe their lies! They're just trying to get rid of the little people…like me! There is no JK Rowling…she doesn't exist, she's a figment of their imagination used to control us! This figment has made us slaves! Slaves to the man! They are controlling us through Harry Potter! Subliminal messages! Every time you read it another part of your brain gets ::sluuurped:: PS: The purpose of this rant was to inform you that Annie does not own Harry Potter, she is a drooling, brainless slave just like everyone else, and is insanely jealous of JK Rowling. However if Annie had created Harry Potter, she would have used it to take over the world, not to become richer then the queen.

Flash backs-

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**Chapter Two: Where Love is Lacking**

Where love rules, there is no will to power;

And where power predominates,

There love is lacking.

The one is the shadow of the other.

--Carl Jung

The night stole quietly across the land, blanketing the emerald hills in silence, wrapping around the homes below like lover's arms, holding the sleepers close as the dreamed away the darkest hours. But sleep was not kindly to one young girl. She tossed and turned beneath her blanket, frantic murmurs escaping through her parted lips as her head tossed side to side on the pillow, she cried out for reassurance, her blankets rustled disturbing the silence like a stone dropped into a still pond. But the night was the only witness to the girl's pain, the only companion in her misery, and it wept along with her.

The sound of rain woke Hermione from her restless slumber, breaking through the nightmarish images that had entrapped her subconscious. She gave a final whimper as the last image flashed through her mind and then disappeared, as elusive as a wisp of smoke. Sitting up in the giant blue bed she brought her knees to her chest and pillowed her clammy forehead in her hands, trying to remember the dream she had been having, the nightmare she couldn't escape. There had been snippets of conversation, she recalled, with Harry, with Dumbledore, with Draco and Lucius. Eyes, eyes a glowing crimson, like fresh spilt blood.

Like the blood of a sacrifice spilling across an altar. Sacrifice. Hermione felt a chill run through her at the thought. Undoubtedly there would be sacrifices in the war, sacrifices made by her, by her friends, sacrifices that cut to the bone, sacrifices that would scar them for the remainder of their lives, if they lived though the war…but it had always seemed so far away, so distant, but now with the war looming over all of their heads, it had become something more tangible, something that was always hovering in her subconscious.

Hermione's palms brushed across her damp cheeks and it was then Hermione realized she had been crying. Hurriedly wiping the tears away with the backs of her hands she let out a small moan. Why couldn't she remember the nightmare? What had she dreamed that had made her feel so afraid, so terrified she was in tears?

Giving a small shudder Hermione lay back down, pulling the covers tightly about her despite the fact that she was sweating and the rumpled blankets provided no comfort. She turned over agitatedly, the hot linen rasping across the skin left bare by the blue silk nightgown that had been in the dresser, the touch of the blankets aggravated Hermione to no end, giving up she kicked the blankets off and lay on her back, the cool night air caressing her skin and soothing her frayed nerves. Closing her eyes she willed sleep to come, but it was deaf to her call and Hermione found herself wide awake and her mind awhirl.

Acknowledging the fact that sleep would not be visiting her again Hermione rose and walked to the window, pressing her hot forehead against the cool glass she stared out across the fields and watched as the torrential rain fell from the grey sky to the dark earth be low.

There was something soothing about the sound of rain, Hermione decided. It left one feeling warm and complete no matter where they were or what situation they found themselves in, the sound was always the same. Giving a small sigh Hermione stepped away from the window and sank into the blue arm chair, folding her legs under her she continued to watch as the rain fell, and let the gentle tapping of the rain on glass soothe her troubled thoughts.

Hermione found that when she was at a loss of what to do, it was better to sit back, look at all of your options, and let the answers come to you…and making a list didn't hurt. What she needed, Hermione decided was a nice cup of tea and her cat. That brought her up short.

Where _was_ Crookshanks, her darling orange familiar? Now that she thought of it, where were any of her belongings? Hermione gave a disgusted sigh and added it to her growing list of "things to ask Draco in the morning" which she had been compiling in her head due to the deplorable lack of parchment in the room...she should have nicked some from Lucius's office while she had had the chance.

She frowned, so scratch Crookshanks. Now that cup of tea. Recalling the seemingly endless trek up to her room from the ground floor and an article she had read on the notoriously dodgy floo systems in older homes, she decided to forgo the tea as well.

Sighing she continued her mental list making, lacking both tea and a cat. Hermione closed her eyes began to sort through her options. No more then a minuet later Hermione's eyes snapped open in frustration and she stood up from her chair and began to pace back in forth from door to window.

How could she form a plan when she didn't know anything? Lucius's speech this afternoon hadn't cleared up any of her questions, in fact his little tirade had divulged nothing at all, she knew he had all the answers, and that was what she needed, answers.

She needed answers to the questions that had been nagging her since she had woken up in the hospital bed in Saint Mungo's, answers to questions that had just formed in the time it took her to finish her first ringer around the room. Yes, she needed answers and the only way to get them would be to go through Lucius…but how? She couldn't just go up to him and demand answers…she didn't even have her wand so she could hardly force them out of him.

He probably had all those answers locked up in his study…

Hermione's head snapped up and her golden eyes went immediately to the fireplace in front of her bed. She had just flooed to his office several hours before, and she could do it again. Narcissa was in France, visiting a friend that much she had learned from Lucius and judging by the light (or lack thereof) Draco and Lucius would both be fast asleep. Standing in front of the fireplace she decided that getting some closure was worth the risk of becoming lost in the floo network, in fact the chances of that happening were very small, no matter what "Dangers of the Wizarding World" said.

Before she had any second thoughts Hermione squared her shoulders and showing a large amount of Gryffindor courage, or Gryffindor stupidity as Draco would call it, threw a pinch of floo powder from the jar on the mantelpiece into the flames, and without so much as a whimper stepped into the green flames and said quite clearly

"Third Floor Study"

XOXOXOXOXOXO

The fireplace in Lucius's study gave an enormous belch and for the second time that day Hermione was sent sprawling arse over elbow onto the green carpeted floor. With a small whimper Hermione rose to her feet slowly. Giving a small, wincing, stretch she surveyed the room with interest. She hadn't really gotten a very good look at it earlier in the day, she had been a wee bit preoccupied with the man who sat at the desk.

The dying fire cast a dim glow which faintly illuminated the room. Grimacing slightly Hermione took in the room. Hermione grudgingly admitted it _was_ tastefully decorated, just like the rest of the house…but it was just so…so…so _green_! Green and silver were the predominate colors in this household being that all three of the Malfoy's were Slytherin.

Hermione just thanked her lucky stars that her room was done in blues and not greens. She probably would have gone insane if that had been the case. On the side closest to where she stood with her back to the fireplace were two deep leather arm chairs that faced each other and a coffee table of wood so dark it's sheen was blue in the silver light, on the far side of the room two large floor to ceiling windows broke the interminable expanse of creamy white walls, and in between the tall windows sat the intimidating desk of smooth dark wood where Lucius had sat earlier that day.

On both walls to the right and left of her were enormous book cases of the same dark wood that stretched the height of the wall. They were both filled to bursting with books and interesting looking magical contraptions, in fact the book cases were both so full they sides strained, give the shelves a rotund appearance. Behind her to the right of the fireplace was a door which must have led to the hallway, and another door on the wall across from the painting which must lead to a bathroom or a library.

Completing her study of the room she set to work. Skirting around the desk she stood in front of the book case and gently ran her fingertips over the spines of the books as she skimmed through the titles. _Modern Medicine for the Modern Mediwitch,_ Lucius didn't exactly strike her as the kind of man who was overly concerned with the welfare of others, inflicting the wounds that called for a mediwitch seemed more like his cup of tea. _Hogwarts a History, Moste Potent Potions, Fact or Fiction; The Founding Four, The Harrowing History of the Wizarding World, Lockhart; The Complete Set _Hermione paused as she came along that particular row of books and stifled a snicker, she supposed Narcissa must share the bookshelf with Lucius, or Lucius had some interesting tastes. _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, _Hermione sneered, the Malfoys probably had a nice long chapter all about them in there, having skimmed all the bookshelves and found nothing of interest (not that she had expected to) she moved to the desk.

Taking a seat in the green leather arm chair she leaned forward to open the lowest drawer, lifting the stack of papers she found there to the desk, she pushed aside several financial reports, which assured her the Malfoys were **very **well off, she came across an official looking piece of parchment, there was nothing terribly special about the paper, nothing that should have caught her eye. But following her base instincts she brought the parchment right up to her nose so that she could make out the elegant writing in the dim lighting afforded by the full moon which was, at the moment, obscured by clouds pregnant with rain. Under the official seal of the ministry was a lengthy paragraph that she simply would have skimmed if something hadn't caught her eye.

Her name.

Starting over, she read from the beginning. Sifting through all the legal jargon she found the purpose of the letter. It was to inform Mr. Lucius Malfoy that Hermione Bennett had been added to the Prestigious House of Malfoy family tree in the Ministry records. Stifling a snort she flipped past the letter to the paper underneath. A copy of the said family tree. Returning the rest of the papers to the drawer, she began to study the family tree. At the top in large emerald green letters it said

**The Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy**

**"Le Pur"**

"Not so pure now are you?" Hermione sneered, for all of Lucius' lies she didn't really believe she was a pureblood.

She gave a small smile at the sight of the unfamiliar name that was now hers. She had been Hermione Ann Granger for the last fifteen years and now finally she was rid of that last name (and she didn't even have to get married to do it!). Finally near the bottom she came across her mother's name, Adrianna, which was linked to David Bennett by a double line of green ink, and from there a single vertical green line led to her name, Hermione Ann Bennett.

Intent on studying the family tree she almost didn't hear the creaking of floorboards outside of the office until it was too late. Hurriedly she returned the family tree and the letter and slammed the drawer shut, giving a panicked look around the office she dove into the doorway to the left of the fireplace.

Closing the door softly behind her, she waited, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the entire house could hear it, and her breath came in short, raspy, gasps as she listened for the sound of the office door to open. She didn't have long to wait at all before it came, the moan of well oiled hinges, followed by light footsteps. Leaning back against the door, she slid down until she was seated on the cold marble floor of the room she was hidden in.

XOXOXOXOXO

The figure moved down the hall, as silent and swift as a shadow. The man was clothed all in black, the only reprieve being the cold glint of silver that obscured the shadow's features from sight. Reaching the door of the third floor study, the silhouette paused, a pale hand rose and long, graceful fingers found the edges of the silver mask, slowly pulling it off the figure revealed smooth, pale skin, and a satisfied smirk.

Giving a small sigh of contentment Lucius opened the door to his study, and stepped inside his sanctuary. He walked towards his desk, shedding the heavy dark robes that were saturated with the scent of smoke, blood, and fear, as he went. He placed the silver mask on his desk, and flung his robes over the back of his chair for the house elves to remove, and soon enough his lean frame followed the robes.

Lucius sank into the chair, enjoying the moan the leather gave as he leaned back and closed his eyes, satisfied. Momentarily, his pale eyes opened cold and calculating, eyes that were at odds with his relaxed posture, and at ease expression. Straightening in his chair, he snapped his fingers, an arrogant expression adorning his aristocratic features. With a loud crack and a puff of greenish smoke a house-elf appeared. The small creature was wearing a sheet wrapped around its self toga-style, three layers of socks on it's feet, all of different colors and patters, and an oven mitt on its head.

The house-elf's head was dipped so low its long skinny nose brushed the ground and its shining bulbous green eyes were mere inches from the floor, its small frame was shaking in fear and apprehension.

"Yes master? You be calling for Gradie?" the small house-elf whipped off the kitchen mitt it wore as a hat, and dipped a low curtsy, revealing it's knobby, green knees.

Not bothering to hide the disgust he felt for the pitiful creature before him he said "Fetch me Draco." And, just as quickly as the tiny creature had appeared, it was gone.

XOXOXOXXO

Hermione had abandoned her seat on the marble floor for a position had by small boys and girls (and numerous teenagers) to eavesdrop on their elders for centuries. She had risen up onto her knees, her flimsy, pale blue night gown wrapped around her legs, her face was pressed against the door, one eye peering out through the key hole and her hands braced on either side of her head. Hermione frowned as she listened to the manner in which Lucius spoke to Gradie the house-elf. Possessing what some would call a one track mind, her thoughts went immediately to house elf liberation, she wondered if Gradie would be interested in joining S.P.E.W, after all Dobby, the first happily liberated house-elf, had once belonged to Lucius. Now that she thought of it, this house was a venerable crop of house-elves waiting to be liberated.

She pushed thoughts of S.P.E.W to the side for the moment and peered determinedly through the key hole, but nothing could be seen except for Lucius's reclining figure, and strained her ears but no sound could be heard besides her quiet breathing. Leaning away from the door she sat back down. Her eyes having adjusted to the dim interior of the room, she was now able to see where she was. It was a small room, a closet really. On either side of her were hung cloaks, green cloaks, black cloaks, grey cloaks, even a strangely out of place blue cloak which she supposed was probably hers (she really must talk to them about giving her another color to wear besides blue). Hermione Granger had been reduced to hiding in incongruous cloak closets and eavesdropping on one of the most dangerous men in the Wizarding World…yup…things were _really_ looking up.

XOXOXOXOXO

Draco slept lightly, and all though shallow, it did not exempt him from the tortuous nightmare's that seemed to prey on the sleepers in the Malfoy Mansion. Sweat beaded his upper lip and his breath was ragged, but he did not move. He slept in the same position every night, out of both habit and necessity, and did not stray from it. He was on his stomach, his hand underneath his pillow resting on his wand, and his head turned towards the door. His was the sleep of a predator, or of prey that knew it was being stalked. He did not allow his nightmares to disrupt his vigilance and he woke immediately at the sound of tapping on his doors.

His eyes snapped open, alert and already fixed on the door as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his wand trained on the creature that had just walked through the locked door. It gave a terrified squeak at the sight of his wand, falling to the floor and covering its head with its twig-like arms. Draco could just make out Gradie's pleas for mercy, muffled by the carpet and its arms.

"Gradie!" he growled, lowering his wand in disgust "How many times have I told you to knock!" he exclaimed running a hand through his platinum hair, sending the unruly locks into even further disarray.

Gradie picked its self up from the floor, dropping a quick curtsey, it said in a proud voice "Gradie did knock sir!" looking unduly pleased with its self.

Draco sighed, Gradie had entirely missed the point, once again. "Yes you did Gradie…brilliant. What was it that you needed?" he asked closing his eyes tiredly.

Gradie gave a horrified squeal "Oh no! Gradie has almost forgot, master will be most displeased! Master is wanting to see you in his study right away sir!" dropping another curtsy Gradie disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Giving a small groan Draco stood up, scratching his chest idly as he moved towards the fireplace. Picking up his discarded jeans from earlier that day, he pulled them on over his black knickers, and buttoned them over his lean hips, more for comfort than for modesty's sake. Forgoing a shirt, he grabbed a pinch of floo and threw it into the dieing embers of his fireplace and said clearly "Third Floor Study".

XOXOXOXOX

Lucius had just stoked the fire to warm the room when the flames turned a sudden emerald green, and his son emerged, looking rumpled but alert.

"Ah Draco, thank you for joining me, please, have a seat." Lucius purred, his voice silky and oh so sweet. Draco was instantly on guard. His father wanted something.

XOXOXOX

Hermione watched from her hiding place in the cloak closet as Draco sank into the nearest chair; his long legs stretched out in front of him, and crossed at the ankles his fingers steepled. While Lucius' fingers were also steepled, his legs were crossed, his left calf resting lightly on his right thigh. A small smirk graced both their lips, and to Hermione who was watching intently through the key hole, it appeared eerily as if she were observing a man looking into a full length mirror and in the back of her mind Hermione was reminded that the reflection seen in a mirror is an exact opposite of the beholder. Lucius' voice broke through her reverie.

"Being that you are my heir it falls to you to carry on and maintain the reputation of the name Malfoy in a manner befitting that of a pureblood male. As my heir you are charged with certain duties and obligations. You are now fifteen, and I feel you are ready to begin shouldering some of these responsibilities," here he paused as if waiting for a reaction, from what Hermione could see Draco's stoic mask had not cracked, "I feel you are ready to stand by my side in ensuring the purity of the Wizarding world, you are ready to be inducted into the ranks of the Death Eaters." And here Hermione saw Draco blanch, and her lip quirked in sympathy, no one deserved to have that throne in their face, not even Draco…although he must have been expecting this.

XOXOXOXO

And he had.

Draco had been expecting this since he was seven years old and Theodore Nott had angrily shattered any illusions Draco had about his father and the men he met with late at night.

_Draco stood in the gardens behind the Malfoy manor, his platinum hair glinting in the white hot sun, his bare feet were dirty from playing outside and planted firmly on the cobblestone paths that were almost unbearably hot, warmed by the unforgiving summer sun. The stone path wove through the patchwork of colors, red and green and pink and brown, rose bushes and trees, all of the colors and textures sharpened by the blinding light of summer time. This was where he and Nott played, where they told silly stories and laughed. But their laughter had been silenced by his last words. And now his grubby hands were balled into fists at his side as he tried to ignore the taunting of his friend, as the faced off in their childhood haven. _

_"Is that what you think they do Draco?" Theodore sneered, his already unpleasant face twisting up into a repulsive mockery of a smile "Sit around and chat over a nice glass of port?" he threw his head back and laughed, the sound ringing through the still, hot air of summer. And then his laughter cut off abruptly as he brought his eyes level with Draco's cold grey ones._

_"Do you know what our fathers are Draco?" he queried hotly, his face flushed with anger. Draco shook his head, no. "They're Death Eaters, Draco. The men our teachers talk about when they think we aren't listening, the men the ministry is trying to catch-"_

_"No!" Draco cut off the older boy, his grey eyes filled with tears "You're lying! My father isn't a Death Eater!" he shouted, his heart racing in his small chest_

_"Bad men Draco," Nott continued mercilessly, "they've killed people, probably kids just like us, and one day, we'll be just like them." Nott finished quietly, his eyes downcast as he fought back tears. He was angry, so angry. And afraid, and he didn't want to be alone in it. If he had to face this, then so did Draco. That was only fair. _

_It was only fair. _

Draco wasn't going to be like Lucius. He wasn't going to be like Nott. He was not going to follow in his fathers footsteps. He wasn't doing this out of some false sense of duty to the people he knew at Hogwarts, to Dumbledore or his teachers, nor was it out of some urgent need to be valiant. He wasn't a martyr, or a hero. He would never be any of those things, he had not discovered his inner altruist, and he never would. No, his motives were purely selfish. He didn't want to serve. Not Voldemort, not anyone. He was not the sycophant his father was, and he was to willful to bend his neck. He was too proud. And he would not take orders from a genocidal mad man. He would not. He would not allow his life to be destroyed by a mockery of a human being. He would not be submissive. Draco Malfoy served no man. He would not fight in this war. On any side, first and foremost in Draco's thoughts was Draco. Self interest drove Draco's decision. Nothing more. Draco didn't want to die for a cause he didn't believe in.

"No." Draco sneered, his pale eyes flashing defiantly.

Before this he had never given Lucius any reason to doubt his loyalty, he had done as he was told for the last fifteen years of his life. Everything. But not in this. He would not sacrifice his freedom for his father's approval. Now, well, now he was making his intentions known, and he would not back down.

XOXOXOXOXO

Hermione drew in a sharp breath at Draco's answer. No? No he wasn't going to become a death eater? Did that mean that he was on their side? That he was fighting for the light? It never occurred to her that there wasn't just two sides, there wasn't just black and white, good and evil, but grey areas, and that that was where Draco inextricably lay, he was a grey patch whose loyalties lay only with himself.

XOXOXOXO

"No?" Lucius queried in a silky voice, his pale lips quirked in a half smile "Do you care to explain." It was a statement, not a question. Draco met his eyes, their faces mirror images, identical pale eyes flashing, lips tilted, and fingers steepled.

"No, I will not serve Voldemort." He said in a recalcitrant tone of voice.

"That's _Lord_ Voldemort." Lucius said his soft voice and sweet tone belying his growing anger. Or perhaps illustrating it, for Draco knew his father very well, after all, he saw his father in his reflection every time he looked in the mirror, and heard him in his own voice every time he spoke. He was his father. But not this time.

"He is not my lord, and he never will be." Draco imitated his father's voice, silky soft and sugary sweet, like poisoned honey.

"You do not have a choice in this matter, your initiation is imminent and it would be best if you acclimated yourself to the situation beforehand, it will make things run much more smoothly." Lucius snapped, his temper short

"Father, I have said it already, but I will say it again." He paused for effect, looking his father squarely in the eye as he struggled to maintain his composure. "I am **not** joining Voldemort."

"You are **not** in a position to refuse boy!" Lucius said angrily, standing up, Draco rose with him

"I believe I am, and I do refuse." Draco said, angry spots of color high on his cheekbones.

Lucius' lips twisted into a snarl, his grey eyes alight with fury and with deliberate movements he raised his arm and brought the back of his hand smashing across Draco's face, snapping his head to the side, but other wise he gave no sign of pain. Breathing heavily Lucius brought his hand back to his side, watching as Draco turned his head back to stare at him, his lips set in a straight line and his eyes furious.

"Go back to your room Draco," Lucius snapped "and in the morning I expect you to be more obedient. Now go!"

XOXOXOXOXO

Hermione watched as Draco turned and stepped into the fireplace, a quiet "Draco's bedroom" and he was gone, tired beyond belief Hermione turned and slid down the door to the floor, leaning her head back she stared at the ceiling, trying to repress the memories which seemed bent on playing mind games, and the tears which seemed determined to fall She wanted to go to bed, but she had to wait until Lucius left.

XOXOXOXO

Lucius sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk, sighing he rubbed his temples, what had he done wrong? He had been grooming Draco for this part since he was a child. He had never expected Draco to deny him this. It wasn't heard of for a son to openly defy a father. He would not have it. He would speak to Draco in the morning. Sitting up, Lucius leaned down and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, his hand paused over the family tree. A small frown adorned his face as he lifted it out, he had not left it on the top. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the door that lead to the coat room, his lips curved up into a small predatory smile, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." He said to the seemingly empty room.

Smiling he rose and crossed the room to the closet door. Placing a hand on the doorknob he grinned, Hermione's fear was almost tangible in the silent room, and he even fancied he could hear her heart pounding on the other side. Leaning his head against the door he whispered, just loud enough so that Hermione could hear "Pleasant dreams my dear." Then he turned and left, smirking as he closed the office door behind him and strode purposely towards his bedroom down the hall.

XOXOXOXO

Hermione didn't dare breathe until she heard the door close as Lucius left. She placed a shaking hand to her heart, taking deep breathes. Lucius had known she was there. Had talked to her. Turning around she peered out the key hole, making sure he was really gone. Standing up she gave a groan as she unfolded her stiff legs. Opening the closet door she crossed swiftly to the fireplace, taking a pinch of floo powder she said "Hermione's room" and disappeared into the flames.

Groaning Hermione collapsed onto her bed. Flinging a hand over her eyes she let the flood of emotions she had felt while watching the arguments wash over her. Sorrow, pain, anger, defiance, denial, horror, helplessness all things she felt when she was in the middle of a row. She remembered the first one when sorrow and helplessness, confusion, and pain had taken predominance over the more familiar companion of anger. The one last year. With Harry. The one when things began to change.

_"What the hell was that Hermione?" the voice came from the shadows _

_Hermione whirled around, her periwinkle robes billowing around her slim frame. She had been looking out over the gardens, and contemplating simply leaving the dance and going up to her room and curling up with a good book when the voice had cut through the darkness like a keen edged blade. _

_"Harry!" she exclaimed "You startled me!" she gave a weak smile at the form that coalesced from the shadows. _

_"What was that?" he repeated, his green eyes flashing, his posture rigid _

_"What was what?" Hermione asked, confused _

_Harry took a step towards her "Why are you here with Krum?" he asked in a dangerously soft tone_

_"He…he asked me Harry." Hermione took a step back towards the door, nervous for the first time in Harry's presence that she could remember. "Are you okay?" she queried anxiously _

_"Why didn't you go with one of us? Ron or me? We asked." He said angrily_

_"You asked me as a bloody last resort!" Hermione snapped "Besides, Victor asked me first!" she continued on, her ire rising with each passing second "And I don't see why it's any of your business who I go to dances with!"_

_Harry took another angry step forward "I don't want you seeing him!" he scowled_

_"You can't stop me! If I want to see Victor I will!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly_

_Harry closed the distance between them with confident strides. His hand rose, and then connected with Hermione's cheek, bringing tears to her eyes. She brought her hand up to her stinging cheek, a shocked, reflexive movement. But his hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her hand from her face and squeezing her arm painfully "You will not see him anymore, do you understand?" he demanded furiously_

_"Stop Harry! Let me go! You're hurting me!" Hermione whimpered, her cheek smarting _

_"Promise me you won't see him anymore! Promise me!" he gave Hermione a rough shake, his startling green eyes intent on her face._

_"Okay! I promise!" Hermione yelped as his hand gave another squeeze, sending pain radiating up her arm._

_Harry released her suddenly and took a step back, his face white his eyes fixated on her face and her red cheek, his eyes eloquent with disbelief _

_"Oh my god! Hermione! I'm so sorry! I…I don't know what came over me! I saw you with him and I just got so jealous, and the next thing I know, I hit you! Oh I'm so sorry!" His expressive green eyes welled up with tears and he took another step away from her _

_Hermione stared at him, her pink lips parted as she struggled to make sense of his actions. He had hit her, and now he was saying it was out of…jealousy? Over her and Victor, the vain part of her gave a please purr at the though. _

_"Jealous?" Hermione asked finally her golden eyes on Harry's face _

_Harry flushed, his eyes downcast "I…I had wanted to ask you to the dance" he said eventually "but I just couldn't get up the nerve." He looked up again and met her eyes "I really like you Hermione…but I'll understand if you don't want to…I mean…after what I did…how could I expect you to…" his voice trailed off and he bowed his head again _

_Hermione took a step toward him and placed a tentative hand on his arm. Yes he had struck her, but he was her friend, and he was upset. Besides, the pain in her cheek was already fading. Harry looked at her hand where it rested on his arms, and then met her eyes his face hopeful. _

_"It's okay Harry." She said softly, and gave a small smile _

_ Harry returned her smile, his face coming alive. He enveloped her in a warm hug, his cheek resting on top of her head "Thank you Hermione." He whispered into her hair "I'll never do it again." His lips curved and his eyes flashed triumphantly_

_ Hermione patted his back awkwardly and tried to relax into the embrace, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that this was wrong. That jealousy, no matter how over powering was not an excuse. But she was weak, and part of her basked in the fact that Harry fancied her, that he had wanted to go to the ball with her, so she let him get away with it. _

Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. Sitting up she wrapped her arms around herself and began to rock. Watching the argument had dredged up all these old feelings. She could sympathize with Draco, she knew exactly how he felt. Except he hadn't backed down, he hadn't given in to his father's demands where she had given into Harry's. She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to self analyze. She should sleep. She slid under the covers and waited for sleep to come.

XOXOXOXOXO

It seemed only moments had passed before a loud banging wrenched her from the uneasy sleep she had finally fallen into. Groaning, she sat up and padded sleepily across the room to the door. Wrenching it open she peered blurrily at her tormentor.

"You look like shit Granger." Draco said evenly and stepped into her room without waiting for an invitation.

"Well come right on in!" Hermione mumbled crossly and slammed the door closed after him.

Draco strode across her room and plunked himself down on the foot of her recently vacated bed. Blinking sleepily Hermione asked grumpily "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No. But you need to get ready. We have to have breakfast, and your things have arrived and need to be moved up to your room."

Without another word Hermione shuffled across the room to the dresser next to her bed which contained an array of lent clothes, pulling things out at random she closed the drawer a savage bang and moved to the bathroom. Slamming the door she turned on the sink faucet and got a good look at herself. She silently agreed with Draco, she really did look like shit. Her normally fuzzy hair surrounded her head like a golden brown halo, sticking up at odd angles and mussed from sleep. Her face was pale and she had purple shadows under her unfocused eyes spoke of her sleepless night.

Groaning she cupped water in her hands and splashed it over her face, the sparkling rivulets running down her face and beads of water caught on her long lashes and weighted them down before they were blinked away. Hermione chose a brush from the neat array on the counter and ran it savagely through her hair, the only way to deal with the knots. Ripping and swearing she fought her hair into submission, and when she was finished it crackled out around her head from the friction of the brush as if it were alive. Wetting the brush she ran it through her hair to tame the unruly mass and then she plaited it into a thick braid that hung heavily down her back where it would, hopefully, stay out of her way.

Pulling the airy nightgown off she threw it into the corner, she didn't look in the mirror for she knew what she would see; prominent rib bones and pelvic bones that stood out against her nearly translucent skin. Sighing she surveyed the clothes she had brought into the bathroom with her; soft rose-cream blouse with delicate lace edging along the square cut neck line and cuffs, with large buttons running down the front, and a pair of faded blue jeans, a camisole and knickers. Pulling on the undergarments she paused for a moment to put on the blouse, shrugging it on she fastened the buttons with deft movements, and then pulled on the soft jeans and buttoned them low on her slim hips.

She studied herself in the mirror; the blouse was very becoming she decided, the rosy cream color accenting, and not offsetting her milky skin, and the soft lines of the fabric detracting from her sharp collar bones and making the most of what little bust she had. It was also very comfortable; the smooth material was cool against her sleep flushed skin and the silky texture had a mellowing effect on her frazzled nerves. The outfit would have been better all in all if she had filled out the jeans a bit more. Sighing she gave one final study and then left the bathroom, not bothering with cosmetics.

"Well come on then, lets go." She snapped at Draco who was lounging indolently on her bed, staring up at the canopy. He sat up quickly and was off the bed and at her side in moments.

"Come on then Granger, we haven't got all bloody day!" he grabbed her arm and steered her out the door and down the hall.

Smothering a sound of indignation she turned her head and studied him, he wasn't acting any different from yesterday, and in fact she would have thought she had dreamed last night except for the shadow of a bruise on his cheek

"How'd you do that?" Hermione questioned nodding at it

Draco looked at her sharply, his face considering "Lucius." He said finally. Why not be honest with her? She knew what kind of person Lucius was.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, and she was

Draco smirked at her, not showing that he was caught off guard by her sincerity "It's nothing." He stated

"I'm still sorry." She smiled, her eyes sad, and her words speaking volumes. She understood; she knew what if felt like to be forced to do something you didn't want to, she knew what it meant to be helpless and have no control over your own destiny.

Draco's smirk faded, he knew what she was telling him. She had been through this before, and she knew exactly what he was feeling. He acknowledged this with a slight incline of his head and then his mask was back, patented Malfoy sneer and all.

"Come on then Granger, move your arse." He growled and propelled her down the hall.

Hermione and Draco both fought back smiles; they both knew they had found a like soul. The two enemies had reached an agreement, and the wheels of fate were set into motion.

**AN:**: A curse on me and my house for not updating sooner! ::dodges tomato:: I'll understand if you never give me candy again! (Although I did give you a nice long chapter! 31 pages in word!) It's been a pretty hectic month and as you can probably tell from the Disclaimer…my brain is a tad bit frazzled. Thanks to **DarkAngelB** my darling beta for looking for those damn commas I always miss. And never fear, you shall never have to wait a ::looks at calendar:: …month ::gulps:: to get an update again ::runs from angry mob::

Draco: ::throws tomato and hits author in the back of her head, sending her sprawling.:: HA! Got her!

Hermione: How matuuuuuure ::rolls eyes::

Draco: Want one? ::holds out tomato::

Hermione: Oh yes please! ::takes tomato and throws it, hitting the author who had just stood up:: You know these are pretty heavy tomatoes!

Draco: Oh, they're not tomatoes, they're spray painted rocks ::hefts another red rock and throws it, nailing the author in the kidneys::

Hermione:: Clever ::hits author in the shoulder::

OA: ::slightly concussed:: hey! Please stop! This hurts! ::is it with another rock:: …a lot!

Hermione: Okay fine we'll stop

Draco: We will?

Hermione: Yes ::picks up pitch fork::

Draco: oooh good idea! An angry mob! ::picks up torch::

OA: ::runs screaming::

**Reviewers**: I was OVERWHELMED by the amount of reviews I got! A grand whopping total of…**FOUR!** ::the band starts playing and the crowd waves little flags:: To my reviewers…you get ALLL the candy and cookies you can eat. You other people…shame…shame on you, my four reviewers are going to get fat and it's all your fault.

**BrandyBuckBeak: **No, centaurs aren't always right, and I hope they're wrong this time to! (Just to let you in on a little secret between us authors ::looks around for eavesdroppers, in a whisper:: the main character never dies! Some supporting characters do, but our hero and heroine…never!)

**Haystack8190: **oh my most faithful reviewer! I heart you!

**DarkAngelB: **Sally, you should not be failing your native tongue! Shame, get good grades and get out of that house! Thanks for reviewing dahling! I love you!

**girl88: **I updated! I'll be better about it to! At least twice a month I promise!

Please don't be greedy! Spread the love around, REVIEW!


	4. This Travesty of Jealousy

**Warning: **NOT BETA-ed, pure, raw, uncut please ignore the excessive commas

**Disclaimer: **JK's lawyers have sat one me, beat me, humiliated me…but I will not be cowed! I AM THE CREATOR… ::lawyers crack knuckles threateningly:: of…this fanfics…damnit…you win JK…you win

**Chapter Four: This Travesty of Jealousy  
**

_Any love you once felt for me  
Has turned into this travesty  
Of selfishness and jealousy  
So why can't you just let me go?  
Any love you once felt for me  
Has turned into this travesty  
Of selfishness and jealousy  
So why can't I just let you go?_

_--The Cure "Trap"_

The rain fell in torrents from the heavy grey clouds, pregnant with moisture, pattering on the roofs and windows of homes, and hitting the green earth below. The freezing wind howled, battering at doors and windows trying to find entrance. But Hermione was cozy and safe inside the manor, seated in a soft arm chair in front of a blazing fire, an abandoned book resting on the arm of the chair. She was completely and utterly bored. Sighing she absentmindedly stroked Crookshanks who was curled in her lap. It was good to have him back at least, and her own clothes. She snuggled deeper into the warm robe that enveloped her slim frame. No more silky nighties for her. Oh no, she was back to comfortable, reliable flannel pajamas. Giving another despondent sigh she rose, sending a disgruntled Crookshanks tumbling to the floor. Giving an indignant swish of his bottle brush tail he turned and left, shooting her a very human look of disdain over his shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that." Hermione mumbled sullenly as she wandered over towards the window her hands tucked into the deep pockets of the burgundy robe.

Three days she'd been here, and nothing. No death eater attacks, no owls, no messages from Ron or Ginny or Harry, no news. She had been completely cut off from the outside. In fact if Draco weren't here she would be reduced to talking to Crookshanks, Hermione frowned, shooting a quick glance at her orange familiar who had lain down at the foot of her bed, well, talk to him more then she already did at least. After all, when she and Draco spoke it was generally insulting one another; she definitely couldn't call it scintillating conversation. She gave a worried frown recalling a 'conversation' that they had had yesterday in the library that was adjacent to their rooms.

_Hermione was seated on the soft green couch, her legs curled beneath her as she studied the text in front of her intently. A merrily burning fire in the grate kept the room from chill and the occasional snap and pop of wood being consumed by the hungry flames was the only sound in the still room besides the periodic rasp of paper as Hermione turned another page. Hermione was engrossed in her book, drowsily content, the warmth of the fire and the printed words before her lulling her into a light stupor, when suddenly the door opposite the one that lead to her room was thrown violently open and Draco came storming in, his face tumultuous. Spotting her he stopped dead in his tracks_

_"You!" he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest._

_Hermione looked up from the thick volume in her lap, blinking sleepily._

_"Well hello to you to." She said sarcastically, looking back down at her book, there was little sting behind her words, she knew from the expression on his face, and the purple bruise that had bloomed across his left cheek that Lucius had finished the conversation started in the study several nights ago. It hadn't gone Draco's way judging from the looks of things. _

_"What are **you **doing here?" he snarled angrily, not moving from where he stood, feet planted, patented Malfoy pout in place. He had come here to be alone, and didn't it figure that the mudblood was here to ruin that as well? _

_"__Reading__." Hermione answered matter-o-factly turning another page in her book, for all appearances intent on her book, but she was still acutely aware of Draco's presence, and the soft noises he made as he shifted his stance, preparing to take a step towards her. _

_"Well, read elsewhere." He snapped, approaching her seat with menacing, slow steps_

_"No thank you." Hermione replied, eyes still glued on the gracefully inked words on the page "I'm quite comfortable where I am." _

_"Look at me when I speak to you." Draco snapped, a single pale hand coming down to rest on the pages of the book with enough force to make Hermione start, his long fingers splayed out creasing and wrinkling the fine, near-translucent, vellum paper. _

_Finally she looked up at him, her heart thudding in her chest like the wings of a caged bird against the bars of its prison as she met his steely eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she studied his expression, for the briefest of moments, she saw his father in him, not just in features, but in the emotion, in the anger, and for that moment, she could see him donning the robes of the death eater, and taking his place beside his father. A mirror image. _

_Before her was a man who could kill her without hesitation, without regret, a man who could slaughter hundreds of innocents without batting a lash, a man who would follow orders. And then all of a sudden the illusion faded and it was only Draco who stood before her, angry and afraid, helpless and lost. Tearing her eyes away from his pale face, and the pain she saw there her eyes sought for something she could fix her attention on, a life raft she could latch onto, and her eyes fell on his hands. _

_Hermione was struck by the contrast, slender, and elegant, his were the hands of an artist, or a surgeon, hands that should have been creating beautiful works of arts, or guiding a needle through fragile pale flesh, stitching together a life, but instead they were destroying the pages of the book, ripping and tearing. _

_"Get your hands off the book Malfoy." She bit the words off, angrier with him then was reasonable. How could he destroy when he had such potential to build? It was a waste, **he **was a waste. _

_"It's my book mudblood, and I'll put my hand on it if I wish." He lashed out, he was aching and it was only fair to make her hurt as he hurt, he didn't want to be alone in this. He was always alone, and he was tired of it. _

_Hermione barely suppressed the urge to flinch back, and ashamed of her irrational reaction she lashed out, _

_"Look you shallow, inbred little ferret, I don't care whose book it is, it's a matter of principle. You don't damage books." _

_Draco gave her a startled look "I am not inbred!" he growled indignantly _

_"Oh please, of course you are, what other reason is there for you to be so pale and thin and sickly looking…not to mention your mental capabilities are somewhat below par."_

_Draco's pale face flamed a violent pink, but when he answered his voice was calm, terrifyingly so, as he deliberately removed his hand from the pages of the book _

_"Just because my father has taken an interest in you, does not give you the right to speak to me in that tone of voice. You're nothing but a filthy mudblood and you should learn to speak to your betters with respect." He intoned softly, a small cat like smile curving his lips._

_Hermione's nostrils flared indignantly. He had no right to speak to her in such a way! Vaulting out of the chair, nimble and quick she turned on him, fought the urge to move as far away from him as she could get, fought the urge to turn and run and keep running, never looking back. _

_"Haven't you been listening to your father Draco?" she queried, her voice sweet "I'm a pureblood now, you're no better than me." _

_Draco growled, taking a menacing step forward. Hermione flinched backwards, her bravado melting away leaving her eyes panicked and terrified for a brief moment before the walls came back up, her gold-speckled eyes once again unreadable. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, confused by that brief moment of vulnerability he had seen on her face. _

_ "What…?" he trailed off, bewildered as she took another step away from him, clutching the book to her chest._

_She inhaled sharply through her nose, struggling to regain her composure. 'I'm okay, I'm okay' she chanted in her mind. She was okay. But her pounding heart gave testament to her weakness, her fear. She was okay._

_She wasn't. She wasn't okay. But she would be. _

_"Stay the hell away from me Draco." She snarled furious with herself. With him. Then she turned on her heel and left, leaving a perplexed Draco to stare at the spot she had just vacated. _

_Females can't live with them, cant' turn them into a frog…although...Draco sat down heavily on the couch, a calculating smile adorning his pale features. Sighing, he stretched out fully on the couch, leaning his head back he gave another tiny smile, couldn't hurt to dream could it?_

Growling in frustration Hermione moved away from the window. She needed to get out of this house. Yes it was lovely, yes her room was an exception from the biased theme of the house, yes she had books, yes she had her own clothes and her cat, but she didn't have her freedom.

Something she needed more then anything else. Even when she still lived with the Grangers, she was free to leave the house, go sit in the backyard by herself and read. She couldn't discuss magic, the Grangers had been absolutely **appalled** by their brief encounters with the Wizarding world, and she certainly couldn't have Ron of Harry over (the Grangers had found the two boys' manners **appalling**) but she was always free to go where she pleased (to a certain extent), but not here.

She couldn't go anywhere without being watched, and something she valued almost as much as her freedom was her privacy (also non-existent what with the house elves in her room at all hours of the day and night and Draco who didn't even bother to knock before coming into her room anymore.

Hermione awoke in stages, first she became aware of the cool air that blew across her arms and face, then she noticed the weight on her chest, Crookshanks, she smiled sleepily, it was then she heard the voice.

"Miss? Miss?" the weight on her stomach which she assumed was Crookshanks shifted.

Since when did Crookshanks talk? Her sleep dulled mind wondered. There was no denying he was as exceptionally intelligent cat, but she had never heard him speak before.

"MISS!" the voice came again, more insistent this time, it was then Hermione realized it couldn't possibly be Crookshanks speaking.

Her eyes snapped open, greeted by the startling sight of a green _thing_ sitting on her chest, its bulbous eyes centimeters away from her own, and its long skinny nose jabbing her collar bones. Giving an undignified shriek, Hermione tumbled off of the bed, the creature which had leaped off her chest seconds before she hit the ground, hovered in midair above her, it's toga like garment fluttered in the cool air which came from her opened window.

"Miss? Is you okay miss?" Hermione looked up, and her mind no longer fuzzy with sleep corrected her earlier assumption, this was not a thing, but a house-elf.

"Yes, yes, fine." Hermione managed, scrambling to her feet "Can I help you…?" she let the query trail off as she straightened her pajamas and smoothed her fly away hair.

"I is called Gradie, Miss!"

Hermione managed a quivering smile, her heart still pounding, "What can I do for you Gradie?" she queried kindly

"Gradie has a letter for you Miss!" the house-elf crowed proudly, brandishing a thick envelop.

Reaching up to where Gradie hovered at eye level, she took the letter from her, sparing a glance at the front of the envelope she blinked at the crest adorning the front and the address; Hermione Bennett, fifth floor bedroom, Malfoy Manor. Her Hogwarts letter.

"Thank you Gradie" she said and the house-elf disappeared with a loud crack and a puff of smoke.

Still standing she tore the top off the envelop and removed the letter, and list, and finally her shining silver Prefects badge, she grinned foolishly at the shining silver vestment to all her hard work. She let the envelope fall to the floor; she didn't even bother to read what was written on the parchment, but clutched the papers to her chest and ran across her room and out the door in search of Draco. She was going to Diagon Alley; she was getting out of this damn house.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Hermione was sent sprawling out across the sooty flagstone hearth of the Leaky Cauldron, and for once she was glad of the scrapes and bruises she attained while attempting to use the floo. It assured her that this was real; she was really out of that horrible house. Rubbing her bruised hip bone absentmindedly she stepped off to the side of the fireplace and awaited Draco's arrival, looking around the dismal little pub with a pleased grin plastered to her face. Mere moments passed before the fireplace belched green flames and Draco stepped gracefully out of the fireplace, and not for the first time Hermione envied him his composure and the ease with which he moved, his grace and his poise.

Sparing a quick glance for Draco over her shoulder, Hermione moved slowly across the dimly lit room, her eyes drinking in the sights she had been starving for. A squat witch wrapped in purple silk robes, her matching pointed hat, which was almost as tall she, perched jauntily on top of a full head of blonde curls, spelled so firmly in place they wouldn't have moved in a tornado.

An incrediably tall warlock with dark skin that gleamed like polished ebony in the half light was bent over his drink and staring into the depths of the amber liquid with an inscrutable expression on his exotic face. Tom the stooped inn keeper, who was half-heartedly running a damp towel over the perpetually dirty bar top didn't even look up as they crossed through the room and made there way out towards the entry to Diagon Ally. It was good to be back.

XOXOXOXOXO

Draco hated this.

The horrible dingy, dirty pub. The hideous bar keeper. The shady characters. The smell. All of it. The crowds in Diagon Alley, the 'hustle and bustle' the quaint little shops. Draco shifted the heavy bags he held, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger finger; all Diagon Alley did was give him a sodding head ache. He had told his father to just let Granger go on her own, but oh no, he got to play babysitter to the bushy haired mudblood. But still he could use this opportunity to ease the curiosity that had been gnawing on his subconscious with increasing fervor since the day in St. Mungo's.

"What's going on with you and Potter?" he queried abruptly, curiosity taking precedence over tact and more Slytherin methods of extracting information.

"Hm?" Hermione said, her attention clearly elsewhere

"You. Potter." Draco said with a curl of his pale lip

"Oh." She said absent mindedly, shifting the bags in her arms to reach a hand up and push away a strand of fluffy brown hair which had escaped the confines of the thick braid that hung down her back, like a rope…or a noose, Draco mused. "Not much really," she shrugged her shoulders "we've been dating since the Yule Ball last year." She mused more to herself then to him.

"So you guy haven't…done anything?" Draco continued in his vein of blunt questioning,

"What?" Hermione questioned, her pale face blank

"You know…" Draco gave a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows

Hermione felt her face flush as his meaning became clear "I…I don't see how it's any of your business." She stammered indignantly

"You're a Malfoy woman now" he forced the lie out "and Malfoy's protect their own…I just wanted to know what Potter's…intentions were." Draco paused; his lips curled up into a cat like smirk "Still even though you _obviously_ haven't done anything, you are not to see him without my father or me present."

Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously "I am not a possession for you to…to…lock up and protect. I shall do what I want, with who I want, when I want." Hermione said indignantly, even though the thought of having an excuse not to see Harry had great appeal, she was a feminist at heart, and no cocky, pig headed, chauvinistic ferret was going to tell her what to do.

"Don't be so sure of that Granger." Draco said cockily

Hermione gave an indignant "humph!" turned on her heel and stomped away from him.

Draco suppressed a growl, no one walked away from him, especially not a mudblood _woman_. He followed after her, discontent with the information he had not been able to gather. So they hadn't done anything. While he did have some ulterior motives for wanting to know that, that wasn't his purpose for question her had been. He wanted to know who had put the fear in her eyes, the fear he had saw when they had argued in the library, he wanted to know who had changed her from that brazen, fire spewing, know it all monster she had been at thirteen, the one who could stare him down without batting an eyelash, the one who would could make him squirm uncomfortably in his seat just by aiming that cool, appraising stare at him. The one who could beat the crap out of him, he admitted ruefully. What had changed her?

He shook off these almost...admiring thoughts and frowned after her.

What did it matter that she had a nice arse? She was still an annoying know it all. Draco glared at the young woman as she weaved awkwardly through the crowds, bogged down with heavy bags filled with potion supplies, her fluffy brown hair bobbing in and out of his line of sight as he elbowed past stinking, dirty witches and warlocks. He grimaced as he brushed against yet another passerby. He wanted to go back to his quite room where he wasn't forced to interact with these…_people._ Losing patience with having to keep an eye on her, he lengthed his stride and came abreast with her, wrapped a pale hand around her upper arm and didn't spare her a glance as he felt her body stiffen at his touch.

"Lets get what we came here to get, and go." He snarled at her through pale lips as his steely eyes scanned the shops on either side of them. Being in crowds made him uncomfortable, he didn't like the feeling of having his back unprotected. Or the crowds, his eyes moved restlessly along the crowd, oh yes, he hated the crowd.

"Here!"

Hermione's voice and the "gentle pressure" of a bony finger being stabbed repeatedly into his back got his attention. Looking down at the fuzzy headed twit who had the nerve to lay her dirty, mudblood hands on his pure, noble person, he growled, an annoyed rumble in his chest.

"What?" he snapped, irritated

"Come on, let's get our books." Hermione said enthusiastically, already moving away from him towards Flourish and Blots.

Inside the shop was warm, with the heat of so many bodies, and well lit, the smell of dust and ink pervaded the large space, making Hermione glow with anticipation. Draco sneered at the rapturous expression on her face as she beheld the floor to ceiling book cases; it wasn't half as impressive as the main library back at the manor, although Hermione hadn't seen that yet, Draco reminded himself, and when she did…well, it was probably as close to an orgasm as she could get.

"I'm going to get my school books and then browse around a little." Hermione said loudly, struggling to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

"Fine." Draco sneered, after all…how much trouble could she get into in a book shop?

Draco obviously didn't know Hermione very well.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Hermione hugged the stack of books she was carrying close to her body, relishing the feel of the stiff spines pressing into her, and the feel of smooth leather book bindings on her hands and arms. There was nothing Hermione Granger loved more then a good book. Smiling she wandered through the aisles made by the book shelves, idly she scanned the titles on the spines in her line of sight. Perhaps she could find something, Hermione smiled at the jingle of money in her pocket; she still had a few galleons to spend.

Only looking half heartedly, trying to maintain the feeling of satisfaction that came only when one had arms filled with books, and the ability to buy more, she was surprised when a book caught her eye almost immediately.

"Complex, Confounding, Contrary, and Cataclysmic Charms_" _(A/N: alliteration is fun!) she read aloud, intrigued and amused by the title.

Shifting the stack of books in her arms she reached up to grab the book when she heard her name.

"Hermione!" a loud voice boomed across the room

Starting, Hermione whirled around, dropping her books in the process. Her heart pounding she forced a smile as the owner of the voice came sprinting into view, closely followed by another.

"Ron!" she exclaimed, she had to force the next name out, as if something were lodged in her throat, cotton balls, perhaps…or fear "Harry!" she smiled, her heart pounding and her cheery voice sounding forced even to her own ears.

She forced another smile as the tall, gawky red head enveloped her in a warm hug, lifting her off the ground and whirling her around, making her feel as weightless as a puff of cotton, before setting her back down on her feet. Hermione hurriedly removed her hands from his shoulders where she had placed them during the heady flight courtesy of one Ronald Weasley, and took a step back, her face still frozen in a smile. A warm hand placed on her shoulder made her turn.

"Hermione." Harry said warmly. _Possessively_, thought Hermione, as he stepped forward and enclosed her in a small proper hug, nothing that would be construed as morally objectionable, but Hermione still felt as if he had raped her, violated her, had ripped her clothes off and left her naked, cold, and unprotected, and in a sense he had. He had stripped her off her defenses and left her vulnerable to his attack. His quick embrace was as disconcerting, and shocking as Ron's, despite the fact that her feet never left the ground. He released her from the embrace and took a step back, but left one arm wrapped around her slim waist, keeping her tucked in close to his, tall, lean body.

"What are you doing here Hermione?" Ron queried cordially, peering down at her curiously from where he towered a good foot over her.

Hermione forced another smile, trying to keep her body from stiffening as it came in contact with Harry.

"Just getting my school books." She replied affably, sparing a brief moment to study Ron.

She hadn't been able to visit the Burrow that summer and in the two month she since she had seen him last, he had grown taller. He was still lanky despite the considerable amounts of food he shoveled into his mouth daily, and his large hands and feet gave him a gawky, unfinished air. He still had a lot of growing left to do, he still hadn't filled out at all, he looked like a bean pole compared to the twins who were stocky, and compact.

Harry gave her a gentle squeeze, as if to remind her he was there. How could she forget?

Smiling down at her he queried "Who did you come here with? Your parents?"

Hermione's smile slowly faded from her face, and just as she was about to answer, another voice smoothly interrupted her

"Not exactly." The silky, masculine voice said, and a cool hand wrapped around Hermione's arm and pulled her away from Harry.

The expressions on the Weasel and Potty's faces were priceless, but Draco kept his face composed, though he was sure his eyes were glinting with the surprised laughter.

"Malfoy?" Ron asked dumbfounded, his mouth gaping open

Harry's startling green eyes flashed dangerously as he studied Draco, and the expression in them turned down right murderous when his eyes landed on Draco's hand which was now resting on Hermione's shoulder possessively.

"Yes Weasel?" Draco snickered

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked

"Escorting the newest addition to the Malfoy family." He sneered

Ron's ears turned red as he stared at Draco, and then his eyes slowly drifted to Hermione, her head was bent and she was staring at her feet, her arms crossed over her chest, the Malfoy signet ring Draco had put on her finger in London was clearly visible on her left hand, his eyes continued on their journey to the hand Draco had placed on Hermione's shoulder. And he leapt to entirely wrong conclusion.

"You…you…you're _married_?" he asked shocked

Hermione's head snapped up, shock written plainly on his face "No Ron-" she managed before he cut her off,

"They forced you Hermione? What am I talking about? Of course they forced you, was it the imperius curse?" He reached forward and grabbed her arms, pulling her away from Draco "Or did they threaten you…or us? I can't-" Hermione cut him off

"No! Ron! We're not married!" she cried

Ron released her arms "Oh…" he said weakly "well…that's a relief." He finished lamely

Harry stepped forward, his lips pressed tightly together, and when he spoke Draco had to control the urge to jump, Harry had been so quiet he almost forgot he was there.

"Hermione?" his voice was steely as he studied her face "Why are you here with Malfoy?"

Draco could feel Hermione's nervousness, her fear. He could see it in the way she shifted uncomfortably, from foot to foot. It was evident in her rigid posture, clear for all to see in her almost imperceptibly shaking hands. Subtle things, apparent only to those who were used to looking for weaknesses in their prey. But in this case, she wasn't his prey, but Harry's.

"Well you see…" Hermione mumbled, silently damning Harry for backing her into a corner, damning Draco for forcing her hand, damning Ron for being so horribly oblivious to the mounting tension "my parents aren't really the Grangers…" she trailed off, her words sounding scripted, as if she were in one of those muggle soap operas her mum...Mrs. Granger…was addicted to.

Yes that was it…a soap opera, this whole thing seemed so unbelievable…so unreal.

"Eh?" Ron asked, scratching his head in thought "Then who are your parents?"

Hermione almost groaned, this was definitely a soap opera, complete with horrible plot and equally horrible script.

"The…um…the Bennett's. You know…the aurors?" A long silence ensued and Hermione continued to babble, attempting to cover up that shocked silence, she tried not to show how unnerved she was by Harry's silence, tried to ignore that sinking feeling in her stomach as Harry's face remained impassive, she knew there would be hell to pay, but she continued in a distant voice, as if it wasn't happening to her, as if she was telling a story "well…my mother she…she was Narcissa's sister…and…they…um…they're my guardians…because my parents are…dead." She finished lamely, her eyes fixed on the pile of books she had dropped behind Ron's feet.

The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity, before finally Harry stepped forward and embraced her stiff frame, successfully detaching her from Draco's side.

"Oh Hermione" he mumbled into her neck "I'm so sorry." He continued with false sincerity.

Hermione smiled weakly at him, her heart pounding "You're not…angry?" she queried uncertainly.

Harry looked shocked "Of course not Hermione, it wasn't your fault." He crooned reassuringly into her fluffy hair "It wasn't your fault" he repeated soothingly, running a hand up and down her back as if he was comforting a small child.

They remained like that for a moment, Ron and Draco both staring at the couple, trying to suppress the jealousy that bloomed in their hearts at the sight.

"Come on Hermione…lets get out of here, we can go talk." Harry whispered, his hands were still where they rested on her back

"Okay." She whispered in reply, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes glued to the floor.

Harry released Hermione from the embrace, but left one arm wrapped securely around her waist, like a chain, Hermione mused to herself, or a sea anchor.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Draco watched calmly as Harry lead Hermione out of the store, not allowing the impotent rage and jealousy he felt to show on his face, although his pale hands were balled into fists, the only outward sign of his tumultuous emotions. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of red hair, the Weasel. He turned his head ever so slightly so as to better observe lanky youth, and what he saw there on that freckled face was a reflection, his own emotions mirrored there, distorted yes, but there, except Ron's were plain for all the world to see, written on his face, etched into his eyes, and engraved in his skin. He was jealous. Jealous just as Draco was, perhaps even more so.

Perhaps there was trouble brewing in paradise? Maybe the glow of the golden trio was beginning to fade? Draco gave Ron, who was still staring forlornly in the direction Harry and Hermione had headed, one last considering look, before stooping down and retrieving his and Hermione's bags and books and followed after Hermione and Harry.

AN: I'm not even going to apologize for how late this was…okay yes I am…I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…words can't even express my SORROW. I don't even know how long it's been since my last update, but I haven't been exactly motivated. The amount of reviews wasn't exactly…overwhelming. But to those of you who DID review I LOVE YOU!!!

48 pages for ya'll…and I cut it SHORT.

Draco: Why couldn't you have just abandoned this horrible story?

Hermione: it really is horrible

OA: …I know…I'm sorry

Draco: sorry isn't good enough

OA: ::lip tremble:: I'm really, really, really, REALLY sorry ::throws herself at Draco and cries on his shoulder::

Draco: Get off me! Get off me! ::beats author::

Hermione: ::snorts with laughter::

OA: Give me your gorgeous strong shoulder to cry on!

Draco: GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU BATTY WOMAN!

OA: ::makes kissy faces::

Draco: AVADA KEDAVERA!!!!

OA: aw…you didn't do it as convincingly as Daniel did his patronus in the Third Harry Potter movie!

Draco: …I'm a sexy, dark wizard not an **_actor_**…and wasn't that your cue to die?

OA: oh right… ::dies::

Draco: **_THANK_**you

Hermione: Finally

Look folks, I'm going to level with you, I'm really not that excited about this story anymore. I need reviews. PLEASE review

Kiss kiss

Annie

NEXT TIME: expect yet **more** jealousy, angst, and betrayal YAAAAY ::blows noisemaker::


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